


Demon Soldier

by Enide_Dear



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, this will start ugly but please bear with me, you know I can't keep from being silly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enide_Dear/pseuds/Enide_Dear
Summary: A dormant function in Vincent Valentine goes highwire and makes him attack Cid. But even Hojo's old brainwashing can completely erase budding love so instead of snapping out of his brainwashing, Vincent's mission goal change, from Kill to Protect.
Relationships: Cid Highwind/Vincent Valentine
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by This You Protect, a Stucky fic

Cid woke up to the comforting sound of machines blipping and whirling and managed to croak out: 

"Wasn't his fault!" Before the immense pain made him sputter out all the swears he knew and quite a few he made up on the spot. 

"Knew you would say that," a familiar annoying and deeply comforting voice next to him snorted out and Cid's pain withdrew a bit as the morphin dose increased. "Could have won sooo much materia if I'd just found someone stupid enough to bet against me." Yuffie leaned over him. Her lower lip was full of bites from nervous chewing. "But not even Reeve was that gullible."

"Where's Vince?!" Cid looked around the numerous machines attached to his body, the sterile walls and medical equipment.

"Aww, not 'How long have I been here'? Damn it, now I owe Tifa a Fire materia." Yuffie clicked up the morphin dose a few more steps probably against all medical recommendation as Cid went into another swearing bout and tried but failed to sit up in the hospital bed. She waited with little patience until he'd exhausted himself. 

"You're in a hospital in Mideel, old man. Was the only place good enough to patch you up after....what happened to you. We dosed you up with enough Elexirs and Potions to bring back Bahamut Sin but you still needed operations and blood transfusions and all that stuff. You've been in a coma for four months and we've been taking turns to sit and watch over your crusty ass. Although your face is not that crusty anymore, I think Tifa used exfoilatiors and skin care on you when she was here. Reeve did your nails. Probably used bolt cutters on the ones on your toes."

"Stop. Fucking. Stalling. Brat." Cid managed to hiss out. "Where is Vincent?!"

Yuffie sighed and sat down. She was still just a brat, but all the things she'd seen and lived through suddenly made her look tired and worn out. Since they were the Avalanche members who lived closest to one another they visited fairly often and Cid had always seen her as kind of an annoying little sister. Now she looked older, more adult than he'd even seen before. 

"Don't know. Cloud's been looking for him for months. After he....after he attacked you, we figured Cloud was the only one who could....you know."

Absolute horrified fury settled over Cid, somehow much more frightening than his short-fuse swearing.

"If that chocobo head even touches Vince I'm gonna...."

"He tore you to pieces, old man!" Finally losing her thin veneer of chill, Yuffie jumped up and ripped the blanket from Cid. Underneath the paper-thin hospital robe could be seen an almost puzzle-like criss crossing of scars covering Cid's chest, abdomen and arms, still violently red and puffy after months of recovering. Cid blanched. "We had to....*I* had to retrieve your liver from the ceiling lamp before I could even use a Phoenix Down on you. And don't even ask about your left foot. I think he chewed on it."

Her voice trailed off and she started rubbing harshly at her eyes. 

"Are ya cryin'? Awww ya do care about me." Cid did his best to get back to their normal bantering but his voice wobbled. Yuffie snorted and flipped him off.

"It's too damn dry in here, that's all."

"Look," gingerly Cid started feeling the scars along his chest. They were deep and very obviously patterned by a gloved hand with razor nails. "I aint saying it wasn't Vincent who did it. I know it was. I was fucking there when it happened! But....it wasn't Vince. Ya know what I mean."

"Demons?" Yuffie blew her nose. 

"No. The demons like me. It was Vince but not Vince. Like it was his body but not his mind."

"Sounds like what happened to Cloud. Or those bastard clones. But Vincent doesn't have Jenova cells, does he?"

"Nah, cant blame this on an alien." Cid's face grew grim. "But I know exactly who we can blame. Gimme my phone."

Cid's first call was not picked up but the message he left to Cloud left out few details as to what Cid would do to the ex Soldier and his bike if he hurt Vincent. Basically, Cloud would be left with a tricycle to pedal around the wastes with and he'd be happy for it. 

The second call was answered but not by the person Cid expected. Instead of Tseng, he got Rufus ShinRa directly. 

"The fuck did ya bastards do ta Vincent?!" he roared at the smug, if still Geostigma harried, face. 

"Ah mr Highwind, I have been expecting your call. So nice to see you doing better." Rufus smiled wanly at the string of profanities that followed. 

"...some kind of Turk sleeper cell activation, I fucking know it!" Was the conclusion Cid finally arrived at. 

"That would be far too easy to exploit. I do not implant my Turks with chips that would make them go berserk if someone hacked it." Rufus fiddled with a pen. He looked like a person who'd gone through all of these arguments several times and discarded them but was still going through the motions to convince an opponent. "But to be thorough; what did you and Mr. Valentine do the moments before he attacked you? Please be candid; it might be important."

Several more profanities followed and Rufus rose an eyebrow. 

"All of that? My my."

"No, ya little twit! We were just havin' a beer, same as we always do when we meet up! There's nothing between us like....that." He ended a bit lamely. 

Rufus smiled and it made Cid wanna punch him even harder than he normally did. 

"Well then, I think it is safe to say that this is not some dormant Turk brainwashing kicking in, mostly because we never did that to the Turks but mostly because if it had been, he'd have shot you, not tore at you with weapons he did not possess during his Turk days." 

Grudgingly Cid had to admit there was a point to that. 

"So that means it was another ShinRa reason for this ta happen, ain't there?" Cid growled. "Hojo." He didn't swear as he said it, but the way he pronounced the name made it a swear all by itself. Rufus face fell a little. 

"Yes, I'm afraid that is what we have concluded as well. At least that is what makes the most sense."

"But Hojo died! Right?" Even as he said it Cid felt a wave of despair. People had a tendency to not be as dead as they should on Gaia after all. 

Rufus only shrugged. 

"We dont know. I've had my people - WRO people I mean, of course - looking for both him and, very carefully, for Mr. Valentine. We have found no trace of either."

Cid hung up on him, clicked up his morphine several more clicks and let Yuffie badger him into calling the rest of Avalanche and Shera to make sure they knew he'd woken up. He didn't need to feign exhaustion after that but fell back into the bed. He felt Yuffie arrange the blankets around him as his eyes fell shut but managed to mumble, as he slipped back to sleep: 

"Wasn't his fault."


	2. Chapter 2

The mission had become complicated. How had that happened? It had been a standard mission at first: to kill. He'd done that before, several times, when in Mission Function. Usually he snapped out of Mission Function a few hours after getting a Mission Completed notice with no memory of what had happened. Vincent thought he'd had a demon episode and was just glad to not find himself covered in blood (Mission Funcion did not allow for that kind of sloppiness) but Mission Function always knew. It wasn't the demons killing people. It was Mission Function. 

But this time things had gone wrong. There were passcodes to override Mission Function, of course, even when it had started. But none of those were 'I love ya, Vince.'

And yet override it those words had, and now he couldn't snap out of Mission Function status, despite getting several notices saying 'Mission not completed' and even 'Abort Mission'. because the mission had changed with those words and would no longer respond to central command. 

The Mission was no longer to Kill. It was to Protect. And so Protect he would. 

Which would have been a lot easier if he hadn't been the one to hurt him for starters. 

Mission Function did not panic at the sight of all that blood. It did not cry over what it had done. It simply took up Cid's phone and called the number with the closest area code, which happened to be Wutai, and then sat down to methodically work its way through Cid's and its own entire store of Potions to keep the pilot alive long enough for assistance to arrive in the form of a small, panicky whirlwind of action. On hindsight he might have collected a few of the bigger pieces of Cid before she arrived. Perhaps Mission Function wasn't as completely cold and logical as it believed itself to be. 

But the small whirlwind didn't faint and just threw up a little before calling an ambulance (which arrived in the form of a helicopter, it was a good thing Mission Function had access to demon wings even though the demons distinctly Did Not Like Mission Function and made that terribly, horribly clear in any which way the could) so he couldn't fault here. She'd done well. 

Mission Function had to do at least as well. 

But that was not easy. Mideel hospital was crawling with people and he was not exactly blending in amongst all the white. Solution: find more suitable clothing. Also hide eyes. Hair probably not up to hygienic standard: use hair net. 

It is disconcerting how well Mission Function know how to blend into a laboratory environment. Very disconcerting. 

Priority of figuring out why: low. 

Mission function walks through Mideel hospital in a white coat snatched from a locker, white scratchy pants that end about a decimeter before his legs does, squishy rubber soled shoes that make a sound against the floor not unlike that the demons make when upset and a hair net. It is an effective disguise. To make it better he snatches a protocol one nurse left on a table when she went to the bathroom as well as a cup of something hot to drink. He pretends to read as he walks, to keep his eyes lowered and sips the cup. 

Suddenly his mind goes sideways in the most delicious way. Sugar/Fat/Caffeine/Enough calories for two-hour battle Mission Functions brain gleefully announces but it is all translated to a massive WANT. He glances at the cup, which has a figure of a woman surrounded by tentacles on it. Huh. He didn't know Jenova had branched into coffee drinks, but if this is her new plan to conquer the world then he will find it hard to stop her. 

It almost breaks his heart but he throws the cup away the first chance he gets. He can't afford to be sidetracked, not even by tentacled aliens wanting to mind control him with delicious Calories/Sugar/Fat/Caffeine. 

He doesn't find Cid for almost 48 hours. Cid is at the hospital, but he is being operated on extensively and it is all Mission Functions fault. He wanders the hospital corridors like a tormented ghost in too short pants until some of the nurses start giving him suspicious glances and then he withdraws to hide up on the roof (which feels...familiar) behind a chimney. Isolated, wracked with guilt and tormented by lack of knowledge and the inability to do something to help. 

That too feels familiar, although he cannot figure out why. 

Sleep is out of the question, as is doing anything to fulfil his Mission Imperative Protect so he spends the time probing his memory. There is much there. He knows all about Turk training, from the best way to obtain information to the quietest way of killing someone. He knows how to hijack a car - any car, even these new ones he sees on the street even though he is pretty sure he'd never actually done it to any car less than 30 years old. Why would he? The demons can fly, or easily run down a car. But even though he remembers training, he doesnt remember faces. And then he remebers one face, and wishes he didn't. 

A creepy leery face. Glasses, long hair, bony hands....

Hojo.


End file.
